


Trust In Me

by bananabog



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Crack, Double Penetration, I'm not sorry, M/M, PWP, Porn, SERIOUSLY JUST CRACK PORN TO THE MAXIMUM, SNAKE FUCKING DICKS, Soooooo much porn, Yeah you read that right, albeit a naga whose mythological powers have been vastly skewed, i am not responsible for any trauma that results from you googling snake dicks after reading this, jimmy as a naga, monster!sex, nor the awakening of any latent fetishes you did not know you had, snake dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7488609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananabog/pseuds/bananabog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Jimmy Snakes had been a naga. </p><p>That's it. That's literally the only reason this story exists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ecdysis (Slight NSFW)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt taken on my tumblr: "How about some JimStan smut involving Jimmy Snakes as a demon"
> 
> Notice how the original prompt said "Jimmy Snakes as a DEMON"? Yeah. I don't know either. One ask led to another and this was born. 
> 
> Crack. Pure fucking crack. There’s a brief bit of smut mentioned, but it’s honestly not really the focus of this fic. Takes place during mullet!Stan’s days as a hobo. My portrayal of Jim in this fic has literally nothing to do with his Ghost Rider-esque background and might as well be taken as an OC. Gratuitous liberties taken with the forms and powers a naga might actually have.

It’s a stupid decision and one which Stan now finds himself wholly regretting.

The way they’d taunted and jeered at the old man had struck a nerve too close to home. It’d reminded him too much of six-fingered hands and tear-tracked cheeks, and when they’d started physically manhandling him Stan had uncharacteristically stepped in to defend him.

 _Note to future self, if you make it out alive,_ he thinks, as he backs up against the walls, teeth bared in a futile snarl, _‘pick on someone your own size’ is a reaaaaally stupid thing to say when they’re_ all _your size._

x x x

They’re about halfway through beating the living daylights out of him when he hears it, like the rustle of dried parchments rasping together. He catches sight of something big and thick and scaly as it slides into the shadows.

Then one of the men attacking him yelps. “Motherfu – ! Something bit me!”

A second man jumps, hollering. “Ow! Hey, man, what… the f…”

They both collapse with heavy thuds.

The ones left standing stare stupidly at their fallen comrades, and then look up – up into the cold, soulless eyes of the gigantic, monstrous snake that’s suddenly occupying the entire room.

x x x

Everyone screams, Stanley included.

“Leave,” it hisses menacingly, and why is it _talking_ , why is it so fucking _huge_ – _why_ is the fucking snake _talking?!_ “Or perisssh.”

It opens its jaws terrifyingly wide, as if to swallow them whole all at once, and the men around him shriek and scatter like leaves before the wind, barreling out the door of the now-vacated pub as they skitter away, unconscious members in tow.  

Stan damn near vacates his bowels when he realizes what’s keeping him pinned in place are the heavy, leathery coils of aforementioned snake.

And then, said snake turns human.  

x x x

“OH MY GOD,” Stan screams.

“Calm yourself, boy,” says the thing – and holy shit! It’s the old guy! Except it’s some horrific abomination of a snake-slash-person (snerson?!) – human from the waist up; huge, slimy snake from the waist down. It’s not terribly attractive to look at. And its human half is old. Like, ancient. Like wrinkled-and-saggy-bits old. And its skin – god! It’s like the guy’s gone sun-tanning with cooking oil. Its skin is blistered and peeling and it’s absolutely _disgusting_ , and –    

“Oh, quit gaping, you’re just as bad as they were,” it grouses. “I’m shedding. Give a guy a break.”

x x x

“WHAT THE FUCKING _SHIT_ ,” Stan screeches instead.

 _“I just saved your life,”_ it says, affronted. But it still holds Stan snugly within its coils. “Anyways – howdy. My human name’s Jimmy, but you can call me Jim for short – ”

 _“ – IS GOING ON?!”_ he finishes.

Jim sighs heavily.

“Would this go over any better if I were to appear fully human instead?”

“…MAYBE,” Stan allows.

“Alright.” Jim’s snake half begins pulling into itself slowly, shrinking and warping as they morph back into human legs. “But if you run, I’m eatin’ ya.”

Stan stays absolutely still until Jim is done shifting.

x x x

He’s a fucking _naked_ , wrinkled-and-saggy-bits old man and –

 _“Why?”_ Stan claws at his eyes. _“Why, god?!”_

“Now that’s just rude.”

x x x

Jimmy is a naga. (The name of his species sounds unfortunately a lot like a derogative, and it takes Stanley several corrections before he stops mispronouncing it.) Apparently, his kind rejuvenates their skin once every ten years, and before they do is when they’re their most vulnerable.

Stan questions what the hell he’d come to a bar for then, if he’d known he was going to be this way, but Jim brushes the question aside with a lazy roll of his (now covered) shoulders.

“And you?” Jim asks. “You ain’t a local, either.”

Stan shrugs. “Passin’ though. …same as you.”

x x x

“Stay with me while I shed,” Jimmy suggests coyly, when Stan tries to leave.

“…alright, first, that’s… just fuckin’ _gross_ , and second – why? So you can eat me?”

“We’re both drifters.” Jim does that smooth undulation with his shoulders again and Stan shudders a little. “It gets lonely on the road. We could both use some company.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’d wanna hook up with you,” Stan states bluntly. “Jesus. Have ya looked in a mirror lately? I’m desperate, but I’m not _that_ desperate.”

Jim blinks calmly. “My skin sells for a hundred per foot.”

 _“Sold,”_ Stan says.

x x x

 _I’ve done worse things for money,_ Stan decides, resigned.

So he’s pleasantly surprised when Jimmy doesn’t do anything except sleep.  

x x x

Stan wakes up alive, with his clothes on, un-violated and still in one piece, and next to what looks like the most obscenely beautiful man he’s ever met in his life.

“Mornin’, honey-wasp,” it greets him cheerfully, in Jim’s composed, rumbly drawl, and –

_“WHO IN HELL?!”_

“Really,” Jim intones dryly. “And after sleeping with me, too.”

Stan splutters, red. “It wasn’t _that_ kind of – ! Jim, what the hell! Seriously, is there anything _else_ that you’d like to tell me? _Before_ I die of a heart attack?!”

“Mm-hmm.” Jim props himself up on an elbow. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

x x x

Somewhere outside, a crow caws aptly.

Stan stares at Jim. Jim gazes back, still tantalizingly nude, a glorious picture-perfect spread from a pornographic magazine.

“…Did you,” Stan says. His tongue feels heavy and thick in his mouth. “Did you just… fuckin’ try ta _flirt_ with me?”

“I wasn’t _trying_ , kitten, but yes.”

“You’re creepin’ me out, pal.”

Jim shrugs. “No different from any other gal or guy that hits on ya for one night stands.”

“This is progressin’ kinda fast, don’cha think?”

“The door’s right over there. You’re free to leave.”

There’s a long silence.

“…I hate you,” Stan says.

x x x

Jimmy doesn’t tell him everything, so it’s a surprise when he goes from making out with an incredibly beautiful man to making out with an incredibly beautiful man’s _torso_.

Jim’s scaled lower half glides smoothly around and against him, thick, muscular coils that feel more like rich, supple leather and smooth sinew than anything unpleasant he’d imagined it to be. It’s almost like he’s having sex with the living embodiment of bondage.    

Stan learns that male snakes have two penises. Stan also learns that he _really_ enjoys double penetration.

He also learns snake mating can take up to a day.

x x x

It’s nearly sundown by the time they’ve finished.

Stan’s gasping, hair matted to his forehead, his back, with various bodily fluids. The entire place reeks of sex, of _them_ , and he’s pretty sure _any_ intercourse he has in the future is going to be entirely overshadowed by this singular, slightly terrifying, but also mind-blowing and strangely euphoric experience.

Despite his comments about it being a one night stand (or, well, one _day_ stand, at this point), Jimmy’s oddly affectionate towards him. Stanley shivers at the fingers carding through his hair, and the coils that hug his body.

It feels… nice.

x x x

Jimmy drops the shed skin at his feet. Folded up, it’s about the size of a full grown cow, and nearly twice as heavy.

“I gave you my word,” Jimmy smiles. He’s human again, and fully clothed. He lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke into the rafters.

He’s as cool and collected – as unaffected – as the first time they’d met.

Stanley runs his hand over it, silent. Jimmy tips his hat and turns to head out the door.

“Hey,” Stan says.

Jim pauses. “Mmm?”

Stanley fingers the papery skin between a thumb and forefinger.

“…wouldja still like company?”


	2. Mating Ball (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What /really/ happened after Stan agreed to have sex with Jimmy Snakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY, SO THIS? THIS /ENTIRE/ TRAIN WRECK? NOT MY FAULT. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO STOP AT ECDYSIS, I SWEAR. I BLAME THE TUMBLR PEOPLE. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, YOU FILTHY SNAKE FUCKERS. 
> 
> PORN. CRACK. PURE CRACK!PORN. NO PLOT WHATSOEVER. RIDICULOUS LIBERTIES TAKEN WITH NAGA MYTHOLOGY, AND REALLY INACCURATE COMPILATIONS OF VARIOUS SNAKE BIOLOGICAL FACTS. 
> 
> SNAKE FUCKING DICKS. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

_It’s just sex._

Stan grins stiffly, a defense mechanism, as the other approaches him slowly, sampling him leisurely through sultry eyes _._

 _Seeex! With a_ gorgeous _babe that’s all tanned, toned skin, and flowin’ blond hair!_

_But with a dick instead’a boobs._

_And who also happens to be half fairytale monster._

_Who was also a really gross old man just last night._

_…Who was a giant fucking snake before that._

_…Yeah! Just sex! No big deal. Holy SHIT, I’m about to fuck a monster. Yep, doesn’t get any lower than this. And whoa – carpet actually matches the drapes. Hoooly shitting_ balls _._

 x x x

Jim clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, this won’t do.”

“Oh, good, so it’s still okay to back out?” Stan says.

Jimmy struts over to the bar counter. (Christ, the way that ass flexes should be illegal.) He seems wholly at ease with the complete and perfect nudity of his human form.

Stan helps himself to several shameless eyefuls as Jim begins casually bending over, gathering together various cushions and throws and rugs from the chairs and sofas that line the pub. “What’cha doin’, slick?”

Jimmy hums. “Ensuring you’ll find this a pleasurable experience.”

…huh. For a monster, he’s surprisingly considerate.

  x x x

 The other’s put together what looks like a comfortable nest of ripped cushions, blankets, and various cloths.

It actually does seem kinda cozy.

Jim sidles into it snugly. He gives Stan an inviting smirk, beckoning him over with a lazy tilt of his head.

Stan fidgets with his shirt, his fight or flight response kicking in. On one hand, sex. Sex that will no doubt feel _insane_.

On the other hand… giant fucking snake monster.

“I don’t bite,” Jim drawls. “…not unless you want me to.”

 _Sex_ , his brain and dick agree. His feet pad over of their own accord.

  x x x

Stan goes about it as he usually does when he’s having a fling – fast, sloppy, and disconnected.

Jim actually makes a noise of surprise when Stan surges in. Stan kisses him hard, Jim’s wonderfully bushy facial hair tickling his upper lip and scrubbing across his own five o’clock shadow as he pushes chapped lips against the other’s oddly soft, pliant ones. He kisses him open-mouthed and moans with practiced enthusiasm, hands on Jimmy’s hot chest as he forces in a tongue to lick at the other’s teeth and cheeks and –

“ _Whoa_ , there.” Jim pushes them apart, frowning. “Slow down, son.”   

  x x x

Stan’s eyebrows bunch in confusion. His chest is heaving a little. “What?”

Jim moves to takes Stan’s hands off his own. He shakes his golden mane and tsks some more, like a master sagaciously admonishing an inexperienced student, “You’re rushin’, baby cow. That’s no way to go about it.”

Stan’s eyebrows furrow even deeper. ‘Baby cow’…?

Then, in the same offhandedness one would request for directions, “Are you a virgin?”

“NO!?” Stan bursts, before coughing loudly, “Wh-What? Ya got a problem with how I ‘do it’, buddy?!”  

“No, no, you’ve got fire,” the other muses. “But I’m looking for embers.”

  x x x 

“Look, pal, I don’t do that whole flowers and language thi – ”

Jim kisses him.

He tugs Stan in with a hand lightly fisted in the hair on the nape of his neck and tenderly, softly _kisses_ him. And, just very fleetingly, Stan kind of understands what Jimmy means by embers: Jim’s mouth is smooth, delicious… _satisfying_ , and Stan melts helplessly into the kiss like a pat of softened butter against freshly warmed toast. Jim’s other hand comes up to cup his cheek, tilting his head back and – oh. _Wow_. That feels… really nice.

Maybe Stan _is_ a virgin, after all.

   x x x

Every time Stan tries to rush it along Jim simply brings him back down to a gentle simmer again. It’s a slow burn that settles deep, comfortably warm inside his belly, slowly coursing throughout his veins until his entire body sings with heat; until every inch of him is nearly raw from sensitivity.

Stan’s heavy breathing phases into quiet pants against the other’s sweat-dampened skin. Impatient growls fade away into low groans laced thick with arousal.

He actually whines a little when Jim finally pulls away to let them breathe.

Jim chuckles, amused. “Steady, now. This is only the beginning.”

   x x x

“ – gotta come,” Stan pants, much later, squirming so much that the various rags beneath him have nearly parted to reveal the flooring beneath. Jim had already been nude to begin with, and sometime during their maddeningly extensive foreplay Stan’s clothes had come off as well. They’re both naked and sweaty and flushed full of arousal. “Just – jesus. Fuck, Jim, _c‘mon_ , fucking get on with it. I’m close, fuck, christ – ”

Jim quiets him with another calm, sealed kiss and Stan moans wantonly into it, bucking his hips against the other’s equally strained erection. God, he could come like this.

   x x x

Jim’s locked them in a firm embrace. Stan whimpers as the other just rocks down against him with measured, precise rolls of his hips, legs pushing and cycling futilely against the bedding as Jimmy continues moving patiently between his thighs.

Stan’s whines climb steadily higher into vocal ranges he wasn’t aware existed. The slip and slide of their rigid cocks against each other, in Jim’s wonderfully warm, oil-slicked hand, is nothing but sweet torture.

Jim’s breathing has an edge of raggedness to it.  

“C’mon, kitten baby,” he murmurs.

Jim thumbs his slit. Stan gasps and arches with a strangled cry.

   x x x 

It’s as though every minute they’d spent engaging in foreplay has translated approximately to how long Stan spends coming. He shudders violently beneath the older man as he yanks at Jimmy’s hair and allows the most obscene of cries to be wrenched out of his throat, out of his very _being_.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Stan cries. “Oh fuck, oh shit – oh, _god!”_

Jim gives a final, deep seated groan before stilling above him as well. He feels Jimmy spill between them, the wet warmth mingling with his own sticky release.  

It’s the best sex Stan’s ever had in his life.

   x x x

Stan’s so drunk on ecstasy, he doesn’t immediately realize what’s wrong once he finally floats back down to earth.

The first thing that registers vaguely is the texture of the nest beneath him. It’d been a little scratchy, a little fluffy, had shifted maddeningly around with every movement they’d made. It’s now oddly smooth, and skin-temperature- _warm_ , and _thick_ , and _firm_ , and…

Stan blinks groggily, confused. The entirety of the nest seems to have transformed into the same peculiar material that feels like one long, heated rice sack made entirely from leather.

“…Oh. _God,_ ” Stan says, face paling.

_It’s Jim’s body._

   x x x

He’s reverted back to his half-snake form (his naga form, as he’d called it).

There’s a ridiculously disproportionate amount of length to the scaly coils surrounding him. Jim’s otherwise still-naked, still-human torso lies sprawled casually across Stan’s hairy, heaving chest, lopsided smile already in place as he smirks at the other.  

“This the part where ya eat me,” Stan asks, somewhat resigned.

 _“Oof,”_ Jim says. “You sure do know how to twist a dagger deep, don’cha, kitten?”

“I can’t tell if that means ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

Jimmy laughs. The coils slither, easing slightly from around Stan.

“No. You can relax.”

   x x x 

“Uh, _no, not really,_ ” Stan says. The residual high from his orgasm is rapidly draining, replaced by slow trepidation. “If ya ain’t gonna eat me, there’s only one other reason why ya changed back.”

Jim shrugs as if to accept defeat, even though he’s clearly on the winning end of this bargain. “It’s not as pleasurable for me outside of my natural form.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ a snake, pal. No matter how much money your skin makes me.”

 _“…on the contrary,”_ Jim begins.

It’s a few seconds of silence before Stan’s eyebrows start rising into his hairline.

“Aw, HELL no!”

   x x x

“Kitten – ”

“Nuh uh!”

“C’mon, honey-wasp, kitten baby – ”

_“Hell fucking no!”_

“ – baby cow – ”

“NO, goddammit!” Stan snaps. He tries to pull away but Jim’s coils have surrounded him, forming a firm, effective shackle around him. “Oh, _no_ , you don’t! You son of a bitch, you can’t make me – !”

 _“Stanley,”_ Jim rumbles, slight irritation in his tone, and the actual use of his name does cause Stan to freeze up in terror, “calm down. I’m _not_ going to make you do anything.”

“Then what’s _this_ ,” Stan snarls, jerking his head at his captivity.  

“A negotiation,” Jimmy replies.

   x x x

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists,” Stan drones.

“Tell me, boy.” Jimmy’s torso glides up to lie beside Stan so he can loop a coaxing arm around the other’s shoulders. “Was there any part of the previous experience which you found disagreeable?”

Stan curses himself.

“…No,” he allows, grudgingly.

“So I reckon that means you thoroughly enjoyed yourself. Yes?”

Stan squirms guiltily. “Look, Jim, that… that was considerate of you an’ all, but…”

“I promised I would make this pleasurable for you.” Jim catches his chin gently. Stan falters at the quiet persuasion in his eyes. “If it isn’t… I’ll stop.”

   x x x

Stan has no idea what’s in store for him if he agrees and he _really_ doesn’t like that.

But Jimmy’s been nothing but nice and truthful with him so far and… it’s been a really, _really_ long time since Stan has been treated like this. With such care, and _consideration_ , for _him_ , for how _he_ feels, even if this is nothing but a one-time fling.

He’d lose to Jimmy in a fight. There was no question about that. It’d be extremely easy for Jimmy to have his way with Stan, too.

So the fact that he’s asking…

Stan swallows.

“…okay.”

   x x x

Jim does something that throws Stan off.

He kisses him.

Not the way they had earlier. This is… it’s a peck. It’s a quick, small, grateful press of lips to the middle of Stan’s creased forehead, and Stan is floored by the apparent sincerity of the affection behind it.

 _“This is just sex,”_ he declares, not really meeting Jimmy’s gaze. “Right?”

“I prefer to call it ‘mating’,” Jimmy muses, unperturbed. “But yes. ‘Just sex’.”

 _Mating._ …It’s got a nice ring to it. He thinks of courtships and partners.

Stan waves vaguely at himself. “Well… get, get on with it, then.”

   x x x

Jim immediately sets about to getting Stan back into the appropriate mood.

The coils that had been wrapped around him, immobilizing him, unfurl and slither away, looping loosely around them both such that Stan is free to move of his own accord again. Stan says nothing, but he’s deeply relieved by the action.

He shifts a little uncomfortably as Jim’s tongue, now snake-like, a thin, forked ribbon, darts out to shyly lap at him as Jimmy begins caressing his face with little tongue-kisses, fingers kneading through his scalp. It’s… weird. Not bad, but he kinda prefers the human tongue better.

   x x x 

Stan grunts a little as he feels his body slowly react to the other’s administrations, and they share a proper kiss. Jim bumps his chin along Stan’s skull, smiling as they pull back from each other.  

“Does your, you know.” Stan grimaces. He’s half afraid to ask, but if Jim’s anatomy had changed up there, he’s pretty certain it’d have changed _down there,_ too. “Is it gonna look like the other one, or is it gonna be some gross, freaky snake dick I need to worry about?”

Jim actually hesitates.

“It might take some gettin’ used to,” he murmurs eventually.

   x x x

It comes out of hiding from some kind of… vent? Slit? Where his human body starts melding into scales. He’s completely, strangely _ball-less_ and it looks like he’s just glued a dildo on, but still. Human-shaped, human-sized, _human_ dick. Stan sags with relief.

Then Jim brings the rear end of his monstrous snake body around, hefting the tail part into his arms, and Stan slowly starts shaking his head as Jim begins applying firm, pressurized strokes along the underbelly of it.

“No.” He can’t look away. _“Nuh fucking_ uh.”

Something pink and spiky starts to push its way out.

_“NOPE.”_

   x x x 

He’s going to need a melon-baller to pull his eyes out to unsee this.

Jim’s snake dick is a two-dick. TWO! DICKS! That do NOT look human in the least! They’re closer to a horror show than any kind of cock Stan’s seen before (and he’s seen _plenty_ , living off the streets) – it looks almost as if Jim’s prolapsed something _somewhere_ near the end of his tail and – they’re FLESHY. And SLIMY. And there are A LOT OF SPIKES. _Fleshy_ spikes, to be sure, but still…!

Stan opens his mouth, ready to screech – until he catches sight of Jim’s face.

   x x x

Thus far Jim has not lost his composure. He’s made a few satisfied moans, some lustful growls here and there, maybe a pleasured gasp and a sigh or two, but nothing close to the various whore noises that had tumbled freely out of Stan’s mouth.

Jim…  Jim is no longer composed. He’s flushed redder than Stan’s seen him all day. His mouth’s opened slightly so he can pant, while his snake half twists and undulates about on the floor behind him in slow, distressed trashes. His pupils are blown so wide his eyes are nearly black.

_Jim looks fucking gorgeous._

 x x x

If Stan keeps his sights _just_ on Jimmy’s face he can probably work up a stiffy again, but he finds his eyes constantly wandering back to the fleshy, twin polyp-like appendages that are almost straining out of the tail end of Jim’s reptilian half. He swallows loudly.

“You, uh. You okay, buddy? Kinda quiet.”

Jim nods, shakily. Jesus. It’s like someone’s flipped a switch. This guy is… he’s horny as fuck and it _shows_. His excitement is painfully obvious, as blatant as his three (!) erections. Not at all like Mr. I’m-Not-Even-Trying-To-Look-Like-I’m-Enjoying-This from earlier.

“Choose.” Jim’s starting to tremble. “Quickly.”

x x x

“Wha…?!”

Choose? Choose _what?!_ Which dick he wanted to be impaled on? Which orifice he wanted it in? _What sex position was suitable for a member-ship of four?_

Luckily Jim senses his dilemma and he speaks up, his voice still tremulous, “ _Stop. Or continue._ Your choice, kitten. But it’s hard to s-stay like this, so if you don’t mind hurryin’ it up…”    

The stammer is what catches Stan off guard and simultaneously seals his decision. He purses his lips and cautiously shuffles closer toward the other.

He carefully pulls Jim’s tail out of his hands and into his own lap.

  x x x 

Jim watches him in apprehensive silence, still taking labored breaths.

Stan experimentally smooths a palm over the underbelly of the tail, down to where the dual organs are poking out. Jim visibly swallows as Stan continues sliding his fingers up and down against the smooth sides, as though massaging away a deep-rooted ache.

When Stan rubs teasingly at the base of the doubled erections Jim gives a muffled gasp. He sinks down into his own coils, hands flying rapidly to his groin-area to tug on his human erection.

 _Yeah,_ Stan thinks, as he watches Jimmy writhe, _this is fucked up._

  x x x

Jim’s panting turns audible when Stan start tentatively rubbing at his twin dicks with spit-slicked palms.

The pants turn into low, drawn-out moans of pleasure when Stan begins stroking him in earnest.

But it’s go big or go home. Stan ignores Jim as the other makes unintelligent noises of protest. He pumps one fleshy, soft-spiked member with a hand, and takes the other fully into his mouth.  

The snake half of Jim goes absolutely _crazy._ Stan has to grab him with both arms, like it’s freaking rodeo, as Jim curls over and around Stan and practically ties knots into himself.

  x x x

 It’s not until Jimmy forcefully tugs on Stanley’s hair that he draws off of Jim with a loud, defiant suck. Jim groans mightily and all but tightly wraps himself around Stan’s body.

“What, not enough for ya?”

Jim shakes his head hard, cheeks flushed. “I can’t come in this form unless I mate,” he admits, frustrated, disappointed. He tosses his hair out of his eyes and begins grumpily shifting back to human form.

Stan stops him, but says nothing.

Jim’s eyes widen fractionally in understanding.

Stan glances down at his own unabated erection and shrugs. “Yeah. He’s cool with it.”  

  x x x

The preparation is somewhat rushed but despite his urgency it’s clear that Jimmy’s still trying to go as slow as possible for Stan so as not to hurt him. Stan grunts as he pushes back down against the oil-slicked digits inside him, rocking on his hands and knees while Jimmy fingers him. He groans a little as he stretches around their combined circumference and as he takes Jim up all the way to the third knuckle.

Jim stops as he lines himself up.

“The moment it feels unpleasant,” he warns again.

Stan pushes back, rebellious.

“Just hurry up, old man.”

  x x x 

The distance between both sets of Jimmy’s sex organs means there is at least 10 feet of unoccupied snake body lying around. Jim curls the rest of himself around Stan’s legs, his waist, and supports both their weights from beneath as he guides Stan to crawl over and lie on top of him.

Stan swallows nervously. He’s looking _down_ at Jim and he can feel their dicks rubbing against each other, like the first time, but there’s also an obvious, intimidating presence at his rear.

It’s an unusual position to find himself in, but… it _is_ a one-day-stand, after all.

  x x x 

Stan’s eyes squeeze shut involuntarily as the tips of both cocks breach him, giving a short cry when the heads finally slip in.

He pants loudly, trying to adjust to the stretch and burn of it, trembling over Jimmy while the other plants little tongue kisses all over his face and pulls his head to his chest, resting his chin on the top of Stan’s skull.

Jim begins moving against Stan, gradually rocking in with tender thrusts while Stan whines and squirms around him. Little by little, he slides into the other until his underbelly is flush against Stan’s ass.

  x x x

He’s done weirder things in the last six hours than most others have for their  _entire lives._

He can _feel_ the spikes. _Every single one._ They don’t hurt at all, but they’re definitely providing _much_ more stimulation and sensation to his insides than a regular, normal (boring) human cock would and – and fuck. He’s never going to have sex the same way again, is he?

Jim’s dual organs had squeezed together during the point of insertion, but now, inside him, they’re attempting to revert to their respective angles almost 90 degrees away from the other.

He feels full.

SO full.  

  x x x 

Jimmy shifts minutely beneath, around, against and _inside_ him and Stan jerks in his grasp, crying out.

“M’okay,” he gasps, as Jim worriedly strokes along his flanks in concern, “Doesn’t hurt. Oh god. Oh, _god_.”

“Talk to me, baby cow.” Jimmy’s voice is equally strained.

“Pressure.” Stan wriggles his hips experimentally and they both moan. “Jesus, shit, so full. C-can feel them, feel your weird ass cocks in me, everything – so f-fuckin’ _full_. So fuckin’ _big_ … so good…!”

Jim lets out a groan that sounds nearly pained from the sheer, raw want in it. “Move…?”

“Yes,” Stan begs. “Fuck, move!”

  x x x

They disintegrate into a tangled mess of flailing limbs and rolling coils, sliding slickly against each other with the aid of sweat and oil. As before, it’s a slow, rewarding simmer that keeps gradually increasing in heat and intensity, but never speed.

The friction is amazing and horrible all at once: barely over ‘not enough’ but frustratingly shy of ‘just right’. Stan’s pleasure crests and wanes multiple times but he doesn’t come, _can’t_ come; not until Jim reaches down and grasps them both; not until he pushes in impossibly _deeper_ and spears Stan wide.

Stan blacks out after his orgasm.    

  x x x

Jim’s still moving when he comes to. Stan winces, overly sensitive, even as his traitorous cock gives an interested twitch and his hips roll back against Jim’s of their own accord.

“What – did I pass out?!” His breath hitches as he feels himself flutter reflexively around where Jim’s still locked inside him. “And are you _still_ going?!”

Jim slows his movements some and begins kissing Stan passionately, hands cradling his face. Stan’s light-headed for more than a couple of reasons when they finally separate.

“Surely you don’t expect me to stop just _there_ ,” Jimmy murmurs, eyes glinting far too innocently.

  x x x

Apparently, nagas not only rejuvenate themselves once every ten years, but the 24-hour period right after they shed their former skins is when the species turns hyper-sexually active.

At least, that’s what Jim tells him, much later, after _many_ similarly mind-blowing orgasms, when he finally runs out of steam that evening. And Stan is too fucked out of his mind to care if that’s an actual fact and high as a kite on the copious amounts of endorphins which have flooded his system. _Something fertility windows,_ or whatever the fuck.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’d felt this _good_.

  x x x

Jim’s back to being his calm, unflappable self by night fall.

“Why’d you bother?” Stan asks him finally. “Doing all that. Being, you know. Nice. Making sure it felt good. I mean… it was just sex.”

Jimmy takes a long drag of his cigarette before passing it over to Stan. He blows out the smoke and waits for it to dissipate before answering.

“Just because it doesn’t mean anything doesn’t mean it’s gotta be bad. Just because it’s good doesn’t mean it means anything.”

“…that’s really fuckin’ confusing,” Stan mutters, frowning.

Jim chuckles.

“Don’t think too much about it, honey-wasp.”

**Author's Note:**

> Credit goes to reaganwarren on tumblr, for their HC, where Jim is whom Stan learnt those terrible pet names from (the ones Stan uses on Lazy Susan).


End file.
